I Meant It
by TigerLilyFire
Summary: PostNFA&Chosen. Buffy is in L.A. where she finds someone she thought was dead, and well, kind of still is. Oneshot.


A/N: Just a plot bunny that's been romping around in my head. First Spuffy oneshot.

Disclaimer: All rights of the Buffyverse go to Joss, Mutant Enemy, Fox, and any other people holding legal claim over this amazing 'verse!

Title: I Meant It

Summary: Post-NFA and Chosen. Buffy is back in L.A., and decidedly very drunk.

* * *

Buffy sat at the edge of the bar, her bottom lip pouting as she peered into the bottle. One eye squinted, she tilted the brown tinted bottle all the way upside down, looking for the very last drop, she was rewarded when a small drop landed on her eyelid. 

"No Jack? Where did Jack go? Come ba-_hiccup_-ck Jack!"

She slammed the bottle down on the bar, and demanded more from the bartender,

"More _hiccup_ Jack! Right now please!"

The bartender took the offered bottle and refilled it,

"This is the last one missy, after this I am cutting you off."

Buffy pondered this for a moment before looking questioningly up at the man,

"Did it hurt?"

He shook his head, an amused smile teasing the corner of his lips, as he walked down to the other side of the bar, ready to tend to other customers.

* * *

Spike sat in a booth at the very front of the bar, right in front of the small stage. He gestured wildly as he tried to get the man and woman sitting across from him to understand his point.

"I'm bloody telling you Angel, you started the argument about the light bulbs! I _told _you, you should have bought the 40 watt fluorescents, that way you wouldn't have caught on fire – wait, what the hell am I sayin'?! Good Poof, just go and buy more UV bulbs! Tan all the bloody much you want! As a'matter of fact, I'll pay for 'em all - "

Spike stopped talking abruptly as a tingling sensation prickled the hairs on the back of his neck… only one person could do that to him.

Buffy.

* * *

"Stupid Washer, always telling me whatta _hiccup_ do. Well y'know wha'? I'ma do summin on my _hiccup_ own. I'ma …. I'ma…."

She glanced to the left of her, and peering over the heads of the crowd, she saw a stage, right past a shock of blonde hair. _Spike had blonde hair…Spike…mm…wait, stop it Buff, Spike's dead remember?_

Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back fiercely, now was not the time to cry. _Later_, she promised herself. As she stared at the stage she filled with determination.

"I'ma sing."

She paid the bartender and excused herself from the bar, walking to the lady's room to freshen up for her karaoke performance, pausing when she heard a rough, accented voice.

"I'm bloody telling you Angel, You started the - "

The rest was cut off by a sudden buzzing in her ears, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and her arms became covered in gooseflesh.

Spike.

* * *

Buffy. Here. What was she doing here in L.A? Did she know that he was back? No… if there was one thing he knew 'bout the Pipsqueak it was that he didn't tattle. How did she find him?

Spike. Here. With Angel. Wait, no. Spike is dead remember Buffy? DEAD._ Doesn't sound too much like it to me, _a voice in the back of her head told her. But what if…what if he was back? Not many who die in Sunnydale stay dead…maybe he was back. _Only one way to find out._

She walked toward the voice, the "Spidey-sense" of hers reverberating in her bones as she strutted nearer to the sound. Then she remembered. Blonde hair. Oh God. Suddenly, she felt like throwing up and laughing, Spike was _back!_ The word danced around in her head.

_Back._

* * *

Buffy practically ran to the front of the room, just a few more steps and she'd be right next to him.Spike looked around wildly, until he heard the sound of feet running. Suddenly, they stopped to his right. His head snapped around to it so fast, he nearly gave himself whiplash.

There she was.

Buffy. His sweet, sweet Buffy.

* * *

Her state of inebriation dissipated as she took the few steps between them, and looked down at him, sitting in the booth.

The world fell away, and she roughly heard her name being said, _Angel, _her mind registered, but she didn't care.

He was here.

Real.

She needed to touch him, make sure he wasn't a dream. So she did the most sensible thing possible.

She slapped him.

His skin made contact.

_He was real._

The next thing she knew she was yelling at him. Telling him off about how he never called, never let her know, how he…how he left her. Realization quickly dawned on her. He didn't love her anymore. That's why he never tried to communicate.

"You….you don't love me anymore." The last five words came out in a whisper.

Tears swam in her hazel orbs.

* * *

"You….you don't love me anymore."

Those words ripped his heart out.

How could she believe that? Of course he still loved her, he didn't think he'd ever bloody stop.

"Buffy! Of course! Of course I still love you! Your a daft bint if you think I don't love you."

Insulting her was probably not the best thing to do, but he saw a smile flicker on her face, _just being me_, he thought.

* * *

_He called me a bint…so much like him, oh Lord, he's here!_

All the things she could tell him right now. How much she missed him, how angry she was, how she was so depressed after he died, how much she loved him, and how long...how long he was gone from her.

"563 days." She said automatically as the thought filled her brain.

"What?"

"563 days, 564 today, but today doesn't matter does it?"

She mimicked him from almost a year and a half ago to him.

She had to tell him. Now.

"I love you."

"Buffy..."

"You didn't believe me. But I did – _do ­­ _mean it I love you."

* * *

She loved him. She _had_ meant it! Oh God, he thought he was going to cry and laugh at the same time. He smiled shakily before responding,

"I love you too."

He needed to kiss her. Feel her.

So he pulled her down for a searing kiss, soft, gentle, but burning with love.

As they broke apart, foreheads resting on another's, he noticed something wet splatter on his hand.

He was crying.

* * *

She kissed him back with fervor, but oxygen was becoming an issue. She pulled back from him slightly, not wanting to break this moment, but needing to breathe. He let go of her lips, and she pressed her forehead to his, panting heavily.

Her mind told her something warm and wet had just fallen on her hand.

She was crying.

* * *

_Ta-da! Like it, love it, hate it? Review. Has not been betad, because I wanted to get it out a.s.a.p._


End file.
